Telling Tales
by oppositetortures
Summary: An astronomer and a captain have a discussion.


_*waves shyly* Hi there! I…..have not written much, okay any, fanfiction before, so this is sparkling new territory for me._  
 _I fell in love with both of these characters before the movie even came out, and I was really excited for for them to have lots of scenes together—and then they never did. *sigh*_  
 _To deal with this great disappointment, I thought, "well, why don't you write out the scenes you envisioned for them?"_  
 _So, uh, here we are. Again, this is my first time doing this, so I'm absolutely interested in hearing any constructive criticism, ways to improve, etc.; it will be much appreciated!_

 _I also have a Tumblr ( **ghostcaptainsalzar** ) where I will be posting any future work, and possibly some stuff that won't end up posted here._

* * *

"But you **are** a dead man."

Having just finished regaling the young man and woman currently held captive aboard the _Mary_ with his tale of woe, Salazar turned around, eyebrow raised quizzically.

"What was that, _señorita?"_

Carina stared at him from her place at the helm, one hand on the wheel and the other holding Galileo's diary.

"I said, you are a dead man, a dead man telling his tale. Therefore, your previous statement is incorrect. Dead men **do** tell tales. You've just proved it."

Salazar stared at her in silence. Henry, his arms and legs tightly bound with rope, watched in horror, heart caught in his throat. When they'd first been captured by Salazar he had warned Carina to keep her tongue in check, this was not the ghost to mess with; clearly, she had not taken heed of his warning. He feared this would be her end.

Lieutenant Lesaro, and the other grotesque members of Salazar's loyal crew watched with equal parts apprehension, amusement, and amazement. Very few people—even when they were normal, living men—ever dared to speak so flippantly to their captain, yet this girl did so without a second thought.

The atmosphere aboard the ghost ship was tensely still; even the undead albatrosses that constantly hovered above the _Mary_ (and pushed her crew further into madness with their incessant squawking) quieted down, as everyone waited to see what reaction would come from the captain.

Captain Salazar's burning eyes were trained unblinkingly on Carina. For her part, she did not cower away from his gaze, although the way her grip tightened suddenly around the wheel and how her bottom lip began to slightly tremble indicated her earlier confidence might have slipped just a bit. But the will of Carina Smyth, orphan, astronomer, horologist and most definitely not a witch, was not about to be broken by a ghost, of all things, a creature she hadn't even believed existed until a few hours ago.

Blue eyes never flinched away from amber, even as their possessor stepped forward. Henry could not be silent any longer. "Wait! Don't hurt—"

" _Shhhhh,"_ Salazar whispered without sparing the boy a glance. One of his officers started to move over to Henry, and a surge of panic went through him. The last time the captain had hushed someone, they received a sword through the gut! Fortunately (depending on how you look at it) all he ended up with was a soiled rag shoved in his mouth, to prevent any further outbursts.

The measured steps of the undead captain thudded on the blood-stained wood as he strode towards Carina. She still did not break eye contact, not until he was standing merely a hair's breadth from her face did her eyes wander—to the gaping hole on the left side of his head.

"Have you never seen a fatal wound before?" he asked casually, then gave a dark laugh at the way she jumped back in surprise. But Carina would not stay caught off-guard for long.

"As a matter of fact, I haven't," she replied. "If I had, they would be lying beneath several pounds of dirt and stone by now."

"It's a shame fate is not as kind to us all," he mused. "Tell me, Miss—?"

"Smyth. Carina Smyth."

"Ahhh, _Carina,"_ he appeared to savor the name, deliberately drawing out the letters. _"Qué hermoso nombre…"_

"…..thank you," she said, brow furrowed.

"Tell me, Carina," oh did he seem to enjoy that name. "You claimed to not believe in ghosts—and we can all see how that turned out for you," he grinned.

Carina huffed as some of the crew snickered. Even the steadfast lieutenant couldn't keep himself from a small chuckle at her expense.

"And yet, with this in mind, you still set out on a journey, crossed over the sea," he said and began to pace behind her, the tapping of his sword-slash-cane beating a steady rhythm. Carina was forced to turn her head back and forth to keep up with the conversation, while also keeping her eyes ahead to ensure they didn't veer off course. Salazar kept talking.

"…..in search of the Trident, a treasure mystical and profound, the subject of countless legends and sea myths—which should have, per your own philosophy, discounted the truth of its very existence, yes?"

" _No,"_ Carina hotly denied, cheeks flushed.

Her vexation amused him. A smile, which would have otherwise looked completely ordinary on the face of a living man, came off as disturbing on the lips of such a damaged face—but also, somehow, endearing as well. Carina was creeped out and fascinated at once.

" _No?"_ he mocked, face alight with a jovial sneer. _"Explique, por favor."_


End file.
